


Miniature Galaxy

by poetsinthealley



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, I guess!!, M/M, everyone is humans i GUESS, gratuitous metaphors for neurodivergency, gratuitous references to seagulls! (stop it now), modern and canon universe mashup, parent/teacher AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 17:02:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28798791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poetsinthealley/pseuds/poetsinthealley
Summary: “I heard there was a fight between some older students, did you see it?”Grogu shook his head.“No? Probably for the best. I also met with your counselor today, she told me you’re doing well in your classes,” Din said. “She told me you might have some unique talents, something you could, um, study. To get better at. Would you be interested in that?” They pulled up to a stoplight and Din met Grogu’s eyes in the rearview. He nodded.“Of course, nothing’s certain yet. I’ve got to talk to some people, you might have to meet with some people, too. I’ll keep you posted.”Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Grogu press his face against the window to watch their neighborhood pass by. His kid, Force-sensitive. Din had armed himself with every known parenting book when Grogu came into his life. He knew how to de-escalate a temper tantrum, he knew how to trick the kid into eating veggies, he knew all about positive reinforcement. He thought he was prepared for anything, but he certainly hadn’t anticipated his kid becoming a Jedi.(mostly finished! and being posted on a regular schedule. expect the final product to be around 25k words)
Relationships: Cara Dune/Fennec Shand, Din Djarin & Grogu | Baby Yoda & Luke Skywalker, Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker
Comments: 31
Kudos: 175





	1. The Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> I very recently started going here. My only knowledge of the _Star Wars _universe comes from _The Mandalorian _, the original trilogy, and the copy of _Star Wars: Attack of the Clones, The Visual Dictionary _that my brother left on the bathroom floor and I read while I’m on the toilet. If this isn’t accurate to the source material, this is why. Also, it’s a modern AU but I’m adding whatever elements of the Star Wars CU that I want because it’s my fic. Enjoy!______  
>  updated note: i have watched the clone wars

Din bounced his leg impatiently, alternating between checking the time and glancing at the door. He could play it cool, not letting his face nor body language betray his emotions but when he was called up to the school to discuss his son’s “performance”, he couldn’t help but nervously fidget.

“Hi, Hi, sorry,” the counselor said, pushing through the door and adjusting her glasses. She plopped down at her desk and started shuffling through a stack of manila folders. “Mr. Djarin, I’m glad you could meet with me today, sorry for the wait.”

“My son-”

“I promise he’s not in trouble,” she chuckled. “This school is full of some rambunctious students, to say the least. I was just breaking up a fight on the playground, but no, his teachers all love him. However, they’ve also noticed some… irregularities in his learning, development of motor skills, et cetera, et cetera.”

“He’s expected to catch up in time, the first year and a half of his life were-”

“Oh! No, that’s not what I meant at all! I’m familiar with Grogu’s situation, it’s all in the folder,” she bonked one of the manilla folders with her pen. “What I  _ mean  _ is that he’s unusually gifted.” 

“Gifted?”

“Would you be willing to consider an alternate schooling establishment for your son?” The counselor pulled something from a drawer, keeping it concealed under her desk. 

“What do you mean? This  _ is  _ a private school.”

“No, this is a public school, and I’m not talking about an ordinary private school,” the counselor fiddled with her mysterious piece of paper. “His teachers think he would thrive here.” She laid down a pamphlet on the edge of her desk and drew her hands away, inviting Din to take it. 

He stared at the cover for a moment before tentatively flipping it open. “Jedi academy? Are you kidding me?”

“Mr. Djarin, your son’s teachers have noticed early signs of Force-sensitivity in him. You should see him play dodgeball; it’s scary!” she said, smiling nervously. “If that’s the case, he’d thrive at Jedi academy in a way he couldn’t in mainstream education. Force-sensitive children, as bright as they are, often struggle to stay engaged and properly stimulated in regular schools.”

Din flipped the other side of the pamphlet open to an image of two children sparring. “How would I know if he is?”

The counselor plucked out another pamphlet and passed it over her desk.  _ Force-Sensitivity Testing: 8 and Under _ . “The school offers screening free of charge. Oh, that’s another thing, the rates for the Academy are flexible and accommodate for any financial needs. Though I know that’s not an immediate concern of yours, Mr. Djarin.” 

An embarrassed look flashed across her face as soon as the words came out of her mouth. Din decided to leave the comment be. He silently took the second packet and nodded.

“It’s worth checking out, at the very least,” she said. In a lower voice, she added, “Your son is very bright.”

Din offered her a closed-lip smile, a rarity for him. 

“Their website is on the brochures, they’ve got some videos for prospective parents.”

“I’ll look into it,” Din nodded. “Is this all?”

“Yes, Mr. Djarin,” she shook her arm, freeing her watch from the sleeve of her cardigan. “School gets out in 15-ish minutes, would you like to wait in the teacher’s lounge? There’s free soda!”

“I’ll be fine in my car.” Din stood up and smoothed his double-breasted suit. 

“Oh, are you sure? It’s so hot out there.”

“I have some work waiting for me, I don’t mind roasting for a bit.”

The counselor looked doubtful. The  _ Razor Crest’s _ (license plate: RZR CRST) AC had been sputtering along for weeks, but he preferred a few minutes in the Nevada heat than sitting around in the teacher’s lounge making awkward conversation.

The counselor swiped her card to let him out of a side entrance. Without sunglasses, she squinted as she waved goodbye. “Have a nice one, Mr. Djarin.” 

He nodded in reply. “Thanks, you too.”

His beat-up minivan shook as he opened and closed the doors. He took his briefcase from the passenger seat and set it open on his lap. Just because he took the afternoon off to meet with the counselor didn’t mean he couldn’t work. Every waking moment was about the kid or the job or, sometimes, both. During drinks with friends, in the shower, on his commute, the kid and the job preoccupied his thoughts. The job paid for the kid, the kid made the job worth it. It was a self-sufficient cycle, a closed circuit. Still, Din’s work rested limply in his hand, his eyes unfocused. He shut it away and tossed the briefcase back into the passenger’s seat, grabbing the pamphlets instead.

On the left-hand side in yellow writing read  _ Signs of Force Sensitivity in Young Children _ . Din read the criteria, finding some of them accurate to his son, some of them not, some of them vague enough to apply to any child.  _ 4\. Curiosity towards the natural world _ . What kid isn’t? When Din was young, he only read books about bugs for 5 years and he certainly wasn’t Force-sensitive. 

Just as the counselor said, the Jedi Academy’s contact information was printed on the backside of the pamphlet. Din set it between his thighs and started the car, pulling out of the teacher’s lot and falling behind the line of parents waiting to pick up their children. He put his car in park and pulled up the website on his phone. Unlike the gaudy yellows and purples of the brochures, the website was a serene palette of browns and tans, matching the loose-fitting uniforms worn by smiling children in the pictures. Din clicked on the options menu, wondering what tab to explore first. Under  _ Enrollment _ , he found the link to  _ Sensitivity Testing _ . He read through each paragraph thoroughly to make sure he caught everything, but it only rehashed what the pamphlet told him. 

At the bottom, a button read  _ Book A Testing Appointment _ . His finger hovered over it. Din didn’t know much about force sensitivity, but he did know that it was a big deal. Jedi had their own subculture; they had their own social circles, they had different job prospects, some even opted to wear the traditional clothing in day-to-day life. Was Grogu ready for that change? Was Din?

Din flinched at the school bell, releasing a stream of tiny children from their classrooms. The kindergarteners-- Grogu’s class-- emerged in a tidy line with linked hands. Din’s heart swelled the same way it had when he first saw his son three years ago. He waved even though he was too far away to be seen. 

Din was a rational, logical man and, in his unbiased opinion, Grogu was the cutest kid at his school. Possibly the cutest kid in all of Tatooine City. He was short for his age with huge, curious, brown eyes magnified by green glasses. Though had a penchant for mischief, his clinginess usually won out. While Din worked, Grogu sat on his lap for hours without making a sound or chewing on any pens. The kid was near the back of the line in a one-sided conversation with one of his classmates. He nodded enthusiastically at whatever his friend was saying but kept his mouth shut. His psychiatrist said he’d become more talkative eventually, that he’d catch up to his peers at his own pace. Din picked the pamphlet back up.  _ 2\. Calm, quiet, and attentive demeanor _ . 

“Huh,” he said. 

With the first round of cars and speeders loaded with kids, the line moved up. One of the fourth graders in reflective vests approached Grogu, her hand extended to him. She maintained a slow, overly-professional walk to Din’s car, but Grogu bounced on the end of her arm. His backpack-- mostly empty, deflated, and way too big for him-- bobbed with him. The kindly fourth-grade volunteer opened the door to the back seat. 

Din turned around as far as he could. “Hey, kid!” 

Grogu mumbled a greeting and leaned forward in his car seat to touch Din’s face. His fingers, perpetually sticky, left a smudge on the bottom rim of Din’s sunglasses. 

“Buckle up, the line’s moving.” Din turned to face forward, but he heard the familiar sound of Grogu clicking the buckles on his seatbelt. He snuck another look just in case. “Good man,” he said. 

The car pulled out of the parking lot and into the street. “How was school today?”

Grogu made an affirmative noise. 

“I heard there was a fight between some older students, did you see it?”

Grogu shook his head.

“No? Probably for the best. I also met with your counselor today, she told me you’re doing well in your classes,” Din said. “She told me you might have some unique talents, something you could, um, study. To get better at. Would you be interested in that?” They pulled up to a stoplight and Din met Grogu’s eyes in the rearview. He nodded. 

“Of course, nothing’s certain yet. I’ve got to talk to some people, you might have to meet with some people, too. I’ll keep you posted.” 

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Grogu press his face against the window to watch their neighborhood pass by. His kid, Force-sensitive. Din had armed himself with every known parenting book when Grogu came into his life. He knew how to de-escalate a temper tantrum, he knew how to trick the kid into eating veggies, he knew all about positive reinforcement. He thought he was prepared for anything, but he certainly hadn’t anticipated his kid becoming a Jedi.

When they got home, Din stopped by the study to drop off his briefcase and hang up his blazer. Grogu ran ahead to the kitchen. The kid had an insatiable appetite, it was a mystery why he was still so small. 

When he first bought the house, Din didn’t know what he was going to do with all the space. Three bedrooms and an office were massive, hollow, lonely, but it was close to town and well within his price range. He had no idea he’d adopt a son before he even finished furnishing the guest bedroom. 

Grogu was rifling through the pantry when Din entered the kitchen. He turned around, cheeks full of Smart Pop.

“Hey, how’d you get that?”

The kid shrugged and tapped his glasses. Din had seen Grogu do that enough to understand what he wanted. He removed his own sunglasses and set them down with his keys and phone, squinting into the bright kitchen. 

By any other parent’s standards, Din was perpetually ridiculously overdressed. It didn’t matter whether he was playing with the kid, doing housework, or cooking, he always kept on the pants of his suit and a crisp, black button-up. By Din’s standards, he was practically in sweatpants. Nobody, spare the kid, had seen him without the blazer and pair mirrored sunglasses, not even his friends. When he was younger, he wore the same three sweatshirts every day no matter what he was doing or what the weather was like. The finely tailored suits offered him the same sense of security, but they also made him intimidating. Untouchable. 

Din and Grogu spent the afternoon working in the study, Din focused on his actual career, Grogu carefully filling in a coloring book. At first, Din’s boss had been reluctant to let him work partially from home, new child, or no. After meeting the kid he had a change of heart, giving Din all the flexibility he needed to be a working father. When he absolutely had to be on the job after hours, he’d occasionally drop the kid off with a friend. What he preferred, though, was to take the kid with. The sight of a finely dressed, stoic lawyer holding the hand of a small child often threw people off. 

Done for the day, Din stood up. “I’ll go make some dinner, okay?” He reached down to ruffle Grogu’s hair and left the study. 

While he was staring into the fridge and weighing his dinner options, his phone started ringing. He slipped on a pair of Bluetooth headphones and accepted the call. “Hey,” he said.

“Hi, listen,” Cara said on the other end of the line. “I need some advice.”

“With?”

“I know you wear practically the same thing every day and you’re not the romantic type, right?” 

“I thought you needed advice.”

“That’s where I’m going,” Cara said. “You can give me an unbiased answer. You remember that girl I know through work? The one I always talk about?”

“Yes, the one you have a crush on.”

“I wouldn’t say _ that _ ,” she said. “But I’m interested, yes. Anyways, we’re meeting for dinner for work-related reasons, but it’s going to be just the two of us. Would it be weird if I got dressed up?”

“You said it yourself, I wear the same thing every day and am not a romantic.”

“It’s not a super upscale place, but I could still get away with something a bit nicer. On the other hand, I don’t want to look like I care too much.”

“It’s your call.” 

“How do you feel about a nicer pair of pants and a regular shirt? Would that work?”

Din pulled a metal pot from the cabinet, an inherently noisy process.

“What was that?” Cara asked.

“Pans, I’m cooking.”

“What’s for dinner?”

“Soup, again. You were saying?”

“Right, a casual shirt and nicer pants? Or a nicer shirt and casual pants?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Whatever it is, it has to be sleeveless, right? Women are into the tattoos, right?”

Din didn’t have to be a woman to agree. “Yes.”

“Hmm. I need a minute to think.”

“Take your time,” Din said. He pried off the lid to a can of cream. 

“While I have you, though,” Cara said. “I am once again asking. When are you gonna get out there?”

“It’s not a priority.”

“But it has to be on your mind sometimes.”

“Even if it was, which it isn’t, it’s hard out there for single parents.”

“Oh, you have to be kidding,” Cara said. “People are  _ so _ into that.”

“Into what?”

“DILFs?”

“I don’t think I want to know what that means,” Din said. 

“Just know, Din, you’re more appealing than you realize.”

“Thanks?”

“I’ve decided on an outfit.”

“What is it?”

“It’s hard to explain,” Cara said. “Thanks for listening to me talk it out, though. Bye.”

“Bye, good luck,” Din said as Cara hung up. 

Din finished cooking dinner without giving the phone call much thought. After all, Cara was younger, she lived alone, she had different priorities. As for what a DILF was, he didn’t know and didn’t care. Dating had never been his top priority, anyway. His life was perfectly satisfying and fulfilling without a romantic partner. He chose to ignore the fact that he used to say the same thing about children. 

The smell of food lured Grogu out of the study. He hoisted himself up to the barstool and clasped his hands on the counter, waiting patiently to be served.

“ _ Ad’ika,  _ it’s dinner, we’re eating at the table,” Din said. Somewhere, a parenting book had said something about eating face-to-face instead of side-by-side. He scooped Grogu off the stool and set him on the nearest dining room chair. 

Their familiar evening routine commenced. Grogu played in the living room while Din washed the dishes. Next was bathtime, then off to bed with a picture book from the library. While reading the picture book, Din kept a book of his own nearby just in case Grogu fell asleep on him. He had spent many, many hours with nothing to do while the kid slept curled up against his arm before he realized he could bring along his own source of entertainment. 

That night, though, Din was able to slip away without disturbing the sleeping kid. He made himself a cup of tea and turned on a nature documentary at the lowest possible volume. The house, all tile and drywall, muffled no sounds. He had learned from experience that anything louder than a whisper would carry through the house and wake the kid up. He didn’t mind, he liked subtitles and found the quiet peaceful. 

Near the end of the documentary, he received a text from Cara.

_ Misread the situation,  _ followed by a string of emojis.  _ Definitely a date.  _

Din set down his mug to reply.  _ How was it?? _

_ Not done yet, _ Cara replied.  _ Texting you from the bathroom. _

Din sent her a thumbs-up emoji.

He finished off the cup of tea and checked how much time was left on his documentary. By the time the credits rolled, it wasn’t quite ten.

Would Jedi academy have a different schedule? Would Din have to wake up earlier? Make a quicker breakfast? Things would change eventually, Grogu wasn’t going to be a kindergartener forever. He had just hoped they would stay the same for a little longer. 

On his lunch break the next day, he once again sat with the Academy’s page pulled up on his phone, psyching himself up to make the phone call. A test didn’t mean anything, right? Even if the kid wasn’t force-sensitive, that didn’t mean he had to go to Jedi Academy, right? Knowing that Grogu was force sensitive wouldn’t necessarily change anything. And if he wasn’t, no harm done. 

Din stood in the window of his office, looking out at the shaded courtyard, the fountain, the group of businesspeople eating lunch around it. He looked back down at his phone. He clicked the  _ Book a Testing Appointment  _ button. Much to his relief, the page asked him if he’d like to book an appointment over the phone or through email. He sighed and selected the email option. The questionnaire was lean, requesting little information about student nor parent. Din entered his contact information, Grogu’s name and age, when he was available, and how he found out about Jedi Academy. With everything filled out, he took a deep breath and clicked  _ submit _ . 

_ Thank you for booking an appointment with Jedi Academy! Within 24 hours, you will receive an email containing the date and time of your child’s testing.  _ Under that, a link invited Din to  _ Meet our Staff _ . He was about to click it when there was a knock on his door. 

His boss, Greef Karga, stuck his head into Din’s office. “Your client is here, I know your break lasts another two minutes, but…”

“Send him in,” Din said. He set his phone face down on his desk and turned on his computer, ready for another exciting afternoon as a civil litigation lawyer. 

The meeting ran slightly late, Din had no time to check his phone again until he got to the elementary school. Sitting in the car line, he checked notifications. Quite a few texts from Cara had come in, as well as a few emails to his work address, which could wait until he got home. He had one notification in his personal email, though, from the Jedi Academy. Appreciating their punctuality, he opened it up. 

“Tomorrow?” he said into the empty car. He slid one hand up the side of his face, under his sunglasses, to rub his temple. This was really happening. In a day’s time, he’d know whether or not his kid was force-sensitive. 


	2. The Jedi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who read/gave kudos to/commented on chapter one! This one's a little silly but I had a lot of fun writing it. As always, I would like to thank..... nobody! Because I don't have a beta reader and I did this all by myself! Enjoy!

As per Saturday morning tradition, Din and Grogu went to the farmer’s market. Parking downtown was a hassle, especially with a car, but the grocery selection was unmatched. The bright Nevada sun glinted against the metallic fibers woven through Din’s suit and Grogu waved at every pedestrian they passed. Occasionally, someone-- usually a group of teenagers lounging on their speeder bikes-- would wave back.

The farmer’s market was the place to be on Fridays. Mainstreet was closed to traffic and white canopies engulfed the street, covering stall after stall. A few food trucks, usually staffed by droids, came in and parked at the far end of the street. At the other end, the tightly packed main street opened up to a square where people ate their food, mingled, and tossed scraps to the gulls. Grogu requested a frozen lemonade, and though he hadn’t eaten a solid lunch yet, Din complied. While waiting in line, he took his phone.

_ In line for frozen lemonade _ , he texted Cara. 

_ Walking in now _ , Cara replied. 

She had gone radio silent for a whole day after texting him from the bathroom. Moments later, she walked up behind him.

“What’s up?” Cara said, falling into line next to him. 

“No cutting!” Someone further down the line shouted.

“I’m not ordering anything!” Cara shouted back. She turned back to Din and Grogu. “Hi, kid!” She and Grogu exchanged a fist bump. 

“I’m interested in hearing about your date,” Din said.

“Mm, not here,” Cara replied. “Maybe once your kid isn’t in your arms.”

Din tilted his head.

“Don’t look at me like that, we’re both adults.”

Grogu expressed curiosity about what they were talking about.

“Work stuff,” Din said. “Taxes.”

Grogu shrugged and went back to playing with Din’s hair. 

“But I can tell you that we’re official. I think.”

“You think?”

“We didn’t talk about it in detail.”

Din stepped up to the counter and ordered a frozen lemonade. The three of them walked towards the square, Grogu reaching for his lemonade the whole time. “Just hold on a minute, kid.” 

In the square, people condensed in the shade and mingled sparsely in the sun. Din, preferring privacy over shade, took a seat on one of the benches at the center. After setting the kid down, making sure his wide-brimmed hat was adjusted correctly, and giving him his cup of frozen lemonade, Din leaned back and looked at Cara.

“Okay, okay,” she raised her hands. “It was about ten minutes after I had gotten to the restaurant, but I went a little early. I still thought the situation was professional.” 

They turned at the sound of a commotion behind them. Grogu pressed himself against Din’s legs, asking to be picked up to get a better look. From the crowd ran a distressed man clad in all black. He had a grease-stained paper bag clutched to his chest and a frantic look in his eyes. Cara braced her hand against the bench and Din wrapped a protective arm around the kid, ready to bolt. The crowd parted, revealing a noisy, flailing, biting flock of gulls. 

The guy swerved back and forth with shockingly precise and graceful footwork, despite the knee-high boots he had on. The gulls remained hot on his trail, nipping at the back of his jacket, desperate for whatever was in the bag. Din put a hand on top of the kid’s head as the guy came closer to the center of the square. Grogu wiggled out, fixated on the gulls. 

It looked like the guy had nowhere to go, the gulls would soon surround him completely. He spun his head around, looking for an out, and started running directly towards the center of the square. In a complete disregard for physics, he vaulted off an empty bench and flew through the air, front-flipping out of reach of the gulls, well over Din, Cara, and Grogu, landing on his feet just in front of them.

For a second, he and Din locked eyes. The guy gave a quick nod, a greeting? An apology? Din didn’t respond, but Grogu gave the guy a wave, which was met with a smile. Then, just as strangely as he appeared, he ran in the other direction, gulls still in hot pursuit.

“I guess he didn’t want to give up his fries,” Din said. “You were saying?”

“Um, I think I need a drink first,” Cara said. “I could use something cold.”

“Agreed.” Din stood up, taking Grogu’s hand in one hand and pulling out his reusable bag with the other. “I need a few groceries, while we’re at it.”

“He’s getting food on his shirt.” Cara nodded towards Grogu.

Din looked down. “So he is.”

They walked through the farmer’s market, chatting, and keeping Grogu from stealing anything. Cara peppered in details about her date through the shopping trip; the dress the girl showed up in, the hands under the table, the eventful night in her apartment, the two cups of caf in the morning. Din silently nodded along through the whole story while buying vegetables. 

By the time they reached they reached a food truck at the far end of the street. Grogu had finished his frozen lemonade and was chewing on the cardboard edge of the cup. Din knelt down to clean the kid’s face and hands with a wet wipe and hoisted him up onto his hip.

“The kid’s got a big day today, huh,” Cara said, stepping up to the food truck window. “Just a water. Thanks.” She said to the droid.

Din nodded.

“Nervous?”

“I don’t think he understands what it is.”

“I was asking if  _ you  _ were nervous.”

Din hiked Grogu up higher on his hip, frowning. “Why would I be nervous?”

Cara sipped her water bottle in lieu of a reply.

Din took a moment, teasing slightly “Cara, just because I’m Mandalorian doesn’t mean I hate  _ all _ Jedi--” 

She cut him off with a sharp slug to the arm. 

After they said their goodbyes, Din walked back to the Razor Crest with the kid. A breeze offered relief from the sun overhead. The car was an oven, suffocatingly hot. Din flinched as he set his hands on the steering wheel. With a smack of the dashboard, the AC in his car sputtered to life. He drove home with the windows down and Grogu laughed as his hair fluttered in the wind.

Four hours later, after lunch and a short nap, Din and Grogu arrived at the Jedi Academy. It was out in the middle of nowhere, so far from the city center, Din was surprised it was still technically in Tatooine City. A group of older children were reading in a circle at the front of the school, wearing flowy tan uniforms. Taking the advice of the email he’d received the day before, Din drove around to the back. The parking lot was almost entirely full of speeders and even a few bikes. An older man stood against the frame of the back door, hands folded in his robe. 

Din carried the kid across the parking lot towards the man, who hadn’t moved since their arrival. There was a knowing smile on his face like he knew the outcome of the test. 

“Hello,” he said as Din approached him. He nodded in lieu of a handshake. “My name is Ben, short for Obi-Wan Kenobi. You can call me Master Kenobi. I will be evaluating your son today.”

“I’m sorry, what? Uh, nice to meet you,” Din said, nodding in return, his hands full with the kid.

“And this must be Grogu,” Master Kenobi said. 

Grogu waved.

“He’s just a little one, isn’t he. Come with me.” Master Kenobi led Din into the building, down the immediate flight of steps, and into the cool, humid academy. “Most students prefer to train outside, however, I understand that many children feel anxious testing in such a public setting. For that reason, we use the sparring room to evaluate new students. Don’t be alarmed by that, though, your son will not be given any weapons.”

“Why do you have a sparring room?” Din asked. 

“Because upon graduation, the students are given one of these.” He unfolded a layer of his robe to reveal a complex metal tube. “What is it?”

“A lightsaber.”

Din shifted Grogu in his arms. “A what?”

“I’ll show you,” Master Kenobi said, smiling. He pushed open the door to the sparring room and backed up, putting a good distance between himself and Din. He unclipped the tube from his belt, held it in front of him. With a click and a warble, a blue laser blade appeared out of thin air. It flickered slightly and let off a hum. 

“Huh. What the hell,” Din said. 

“These are a cornerstone of Jedi culture. Though they can be dangerous in the wrong hands, we make sure they only go to students who have been properly trained.” He sheathed the laser and tucked the tube back into his robes. “Let’s get started, shall we?”

Master Kenobi positioned Grogu on one end of the sparring mat and stood on the other end himself. He asked Din to sit off to the side on the benches.

“I sense a strong connection between you and your son,” Master Kenobi said. “I hope you don’t mind me asking, but is the mother in the picture… or perhaps a second father?”

Din shook his head, concerned by just how much Master Kenobi could  _ sense _ . “He’s adopted.”

“I see,” Master Kenobi said. “A bond not of blood, but of choice. And you have no partner? Nobody else who Grogu would see as a parental figure?”

“I don’t see why this is relevant.”

“I just want to understand the young one’s situation,” Master Kenobi said.

“He’s close with my friends,” Din said. “Not to the point of seeing them as a parental figure, more as aunts and uncles.”

Master Kenobi nodded sagely. Apparently done exploring Grogu’s home life, he picked up a small linen bag and stepped to face Grogu on the mat. “The most well-known ability of the Jedi is moving objects with one’s mind. I trust that you’ve heard of this one. Many parents assume that this is innate, that a force-sensitive child would be levitating toys from day one, but this isn’t the case. Telekinesis is a learned talent, it takes mental strength and discipline to lift objects off the ground. However, this is still one of the first signs of force-sensitivity that presents. Have you ever noticed things in your house that are not where they’re supposed to be? Perhaps something set on a high shelf that mysteriously fell, or a plate of food that slid across the counter?”

Din thought about the kid’s favorite snack which always made its way off the top shelf of the pantry. He nodded. 

Master Kenobi took a small foam block out of the linen bag and set it on the floor. “Now, Grogu, I’d like you to focus on this block. Are you focusing?”

Grogu nodded.

“I’d like you to imagine it is a part of your body, and then I would like you to try to move it, just as you’d move your hand. Can you do that?”

Grogu scrunched his eyebrows together and wiggled his fingers.

“No, move the block, please.”

The kid looked at Din, confused.

“If you move the block with your mind, I’ll let you stay up late watching TV.”

Grogu perked up at the offer. He concentrated on the block, narrowing his eyes and covering his mouth with his hands. It might have moved a little, but Din’s eyes could have easily been playing tricks on him. Master Kenobi showed no indication of his opinion on Grogu’s performance. 

One moment, the block was still, and the next, it was gliding across the mat smoothly. Grogu held out his hands and scooped it up. Smiling, he held it out for Din to see. 

Din shook his head, amazed. “You did it, kid!”

Master Kenobi stood up. “Very impressive, I must say, especially for a child of his age. I’m pleased to say that any further testing would be redundant, your son is clearly force-sensitive.” 

“What does this mean?” Din asked. Grogu approached him and set the block in his hand. “I see it. You’re awesome.”

“It means that he can and should enroll as soon as possible. He has a promising future ahead of him at the Jedi Academy.” 

“Just like that? He’s in?”

“Yes, testing is typically a much more involved process. Many children, even the most skilled, are shy at first and struggle to perform well. Evidently, your son has none of these concerns.” There was a brisk knock on the door. “Pardon me, I should see who that is.” Master Kenobi opened the door to the sparring room and held a hushed conversation with someone Din couldn’t see. Din ruffled the kid’s hair and handed him back the foam cube, pointing to Master Kenobi’s linen bag. Grogu gave the cube a toss and it landed perfectly into the bag’s small opening. 

At the door, Master Kenobi raised his voice. “We’ve just wrapped up a testing session, very successful, I might add. Mr. Djarin, you have to meet my protegee, Luke Skywalker.” He opened the door further.

“Seagulls guy?” Din said.

“Come again?” Master Kenobi asked. 

“I was chased by gulls at the farmers market this morning, many people saw,” Luke said quietly. He was still dressed head-to-toe in the fitted black outfit and one leather glove. 

“Again?” Master Kenobi shook his head. “Luke here is on his day off, but he stopped by to drop off some reading materials for the boarding students. Luke, this is Din Djarin and his son, Grogu.” 

Luke and Master Kenobi exchanged an unspoken nod. Luke shook his head.

“I have some business I must attend to. Luke will walk you out, he’s headed in that direction anyway,” Master Kenobi said. He swept out of the room.

“Welcome, padawan,” Luke said to Grogu. To Din, he said, “The Jedi Academy will open many opportunities for your son. Which lot are you parked in?”

“The back one,” Din replied, standing up. 

“Right this way, sir,” Luke led Din and Grogu out of the sparring room and through the hallway. “Do you have, uh, any questions about the program?”

“Is this a religious thing?” Din asked, finally voicing the thing that had been bugging him all day.

“It used to be, yes, but it’s not like that anymore. The Force is a science, or an art-- or something like that, we haven’t decided. Either way, it’s a subject that certain people are capable of studying and practicing. The connection between the mind and the physical world. It doesn’t conflict with the student’s religious beliefs.”

Din nodded. He bit his tongue for a moment and then spoke up again. “And what does that have to do with public displays of parkour?”

Luke sighed. “It has nothing to do with my capabilities as a teacher, I assure you. I  _ am _ sorry for any disturbance I may have caused you and your son at the farmer’s market, but I won’t apologize for refusing to give my fries to a flock of birds.” 

“I-”

“Again, I’m very sorry and I hope the incident at the farmer’s market doesn’t impact your opinion on me .” Luke hopped in the driver’s seat of an orange speeder parallel parked at the curb. “Have a nice day.”

Din watched him drive off. “I was just asking,” he muttered after Luke was well out of earshot. “Anyway, kid, you’re gonna be a Jedi.”

While the kid stayed up past his bedtime watching TV, Din sat on the couch next to him, texting his friends about the events of the afternoon. Everyone, from his boss to his mechanic, was invested in Grogu’s life. It took hours to get the group caught up to speed on the events of the afternoon. 

So he relayed the same story over and over again to anyone who asked while Grogu watched  _ Porg Patrol _ . By 9:30, the kid was dozing off on the arm of the couch, barely keeping awake as the porgs defunded the police. Din scooped him up and carted him off to bed, smiling softly as he tucked him in. He took a moment to look at Grogu and turned off the lights. 

In his study, he printed out the paperwork emailed by the Jedi Academy and got to work.


	3. The Academy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter one this time! You know how it is. Thanks, as always, for the kind comments. I hope you all have a great first week of February, see you next Sunday.

“Here’s the social calendar,” a woman named Ahsoka said. “Most parents like to get involved in some way or another, depending on what works with their schedules.”

Din had been shocked by the punctuality of the Academy. By Monday morning, just two days after the kid took the test, he was enrolled and trying on his first pair of robes. Din took the color-coded calendar from Ahsoka. “These are all for parents?”

“Some of them are social events just for parents. There are also things you can bring your kids to, like game night. Since your son is a kindergartener, we’ll need a lot of chaperones on his field trips. You should try to make it to one or two this month, it’s a great way to meet other parents and get acquainted with Jedi culture.”

“Hm. Well, I work pretty long hours,” Din said. He had never been one for social mixers or kindergarten field trips.

“It’ll also help your son adapt to the new school.”

“I-” 

Grogu came out of the bathroom in his new robes, spinning to show them off from all angles.

“Look at you!” Din said. He reached out to straighten the brown and white robe. 

“It’s a little big now,” Ahsoka said. “But it’ll fit him soon. And, if it’s still in good condition by the time he’s outgrown it, we’ll give it to another student. I’ll give you a spare set, but most of us wear the same robes every day with something underneath." She opened up the collar of her robe to expose a Virginity Rocks t-shirt. “We like to wear something funny since nobody sees it.” She winked. “The school day’s starting soon, let’s walk Grogu to class, and then we can continue our conversation about the social calendar.”

Din stood up and took Grogu’s hand. “Do you teach?”

“Yes, but the older students have PE first thing in the morning so I use this hour for administrative work. I’ll be teaching Grogu this afternoon though.”

The three walked through the narrow hallway connecting the classrooms. “What class does he have first?”

“That would be Creative Force Experience,” She grinned. “Think of it as Jedi art class. I heard you’ve already met the teacher, Luke- or, Master Skywalker,” she said to Grogu. “He’s great with new kids, considering that he joined the program later himself.” 

The classrooms they passed were full of students, older groups lounging around and reading, younger ones chatting loudly. Where would Grogu fit in? 

“Here it is, Master Skywalker’s classroom,” Ahsoka knocked once before opening the door. “I have a visitor!” She said to the full classroom. 

Whatever a grade school’s art classroom was supposed to look like, it wasn’t the room Din found himself in. He didn’t see any handprint turkeys or crayons. The far wall was covered in splatters of paint, many of which formed barely coherent shapes. Cubbies were filled with random objects, vaguely reminiscent of the selection at a thrift store. A group of children sat around one of the tables, giggling and creating an impossible tower of craft supplies. Grogu widened his eyes at the display, desperate to either join in or knock it over. A little girl with rolled-up sleeves balanced a tape dispenser on top of a vertical sharpie, which miraculously stayed put. 

Luke was at the front of the classroom calibrating the Holoboard with a plastic marker, getting increasingly frustrated. He turned around as Grogu and Din walked through the door. In his loose cream robes cinched around his waist, he looked like someone capable of teaching art to children. “Hello!” He said to Grogu, smiling. “Come here, come here.”

Grogu looked up at Din for approval before running to the front of the classroom. “Okay, everyone,” Luke said. The tower of craft supplies fell as soon as the students looked away from it. “We have a new friend in our class today. His name is Grogu and this is his very first day at the Academy.”

The class said a chorus of “Hi, Grogu!”s. 

“We don’t have assigned seats, I’m not sure if your past school did. It looks like there’s an empty stool right up at the front, though, how about you sit there today?” 

The students at the table closest to the front of the classroom cleared aside to make room for Grogu, scooping up their art supplies and moving their chairs.

“Before we continue our spiral diagrams, who wants to play the name game?” Luke’s suggestion was met by cheers from the children. “We’ll get started in just a second, talk amongst yourselves.” Luke walked over to Din and Ahsoka, his lightsaber barely visible in the swishing folds of his robe. “Hello again.”

Din nodded stiffly. 

“Creative Force Experience is a great class to start the day with,” Luke said. “It gets kids excited about using the Force.”

Ahsoka nodded. “Luke is an excellent teacher, your son’s going to have a lot of fun in his class. It’s time for us to go, though, so he can begin to learn.”

Din waved goodbye and Grogu returned the gesture with enthusiasm. Then, he walked away with Ahsoka, letting his son begin his first day of Jedi Academy. “I have to get to work, but I’ll take a look at this.” Din held up the social calendar. 

“Seriously consider participating in some way,” Ahsoka said. “If not for you, for your son.”

“I will,” Din said. “But I also really have to go to work, I’m running late.”

“I understand,” Ahsoka said. “I sense that you’ve found it difficult to adjust to this situation, that you know very little about the Force. That’s all the more reason for you to get involved in the Jedi community. Many of the parents you’ll meet have been in your shoes.”

Din looked down at the calendar. Mingling with a group of parents sounded torturous, but spending more time with the kid... “Is there a field trip that still needs volunteers?”

“Our monthly weekend excursion is on Saturday, we’re going to the planetarium. These are optional, but it would be a great way for Grogu to get some extra time with his classmates. Since it’s on a weekend, it’ll fit into your schedule better.” Ahsoka said. 

“I… I think I could figure something out. I can probably get away with anything at work if it’s for the kid.”

“I’ll put your name down as a volunteer. Master Kenobi will be happy to see you’ve changed your mind about getting involved.”

“He wasn’t there when I-”

“He knows,” Ahsoka said. “Pickup is at 4, we have an afterschool program that you’re welcome to take advantage of if you ever are working late. Have a good one!”

Din was left alone in the hallway. He went to work but found it nearly impossible to focus. Was Grogu homesick? Was he making friends? Was he happy? Safe? The thoughts flew through his head as he stood in the breakroom pouring salt into his caf instead of sugar. 4-o-clock couldn’t come soon enough. 

Kids were already mingling in front of the school when Din arrived. A group of teenagers stood around a speeder, robes shucked and tied at the waist to reveal t-shirts with idiotic slogans, levitating a piece of burning paper. A younger kid chucked a water bottle at his friend, but it jerked to a stop mid-air and flew back at the thrower. Din scanned the crowd for Grogu. Someone knocked on his car window. He rolled it down to speak with Master Kenobi.

“Mr. Djarin! Your son had an exciting first day, he made quite a few new friends, he’ll be right out with the other kindergarteners. We keep them inside until they’re ready to be picked up, for obvious reasons.” He gestured at the chaos around him. “We encourage free expression, this is how the padawans choose to utilize that.”

Din ignored the odd phrase. “So everything went well? He didn’t get freaked out?”

“Not at all, he appeared to be enjoying himself in my class. I just came here to talk about your volunteering for the planetarium field trip.”

“Oh. Yeah, Ahsoka said it would be good for the kid, so.”

“Of course! I’m impressed, most parents are discouraged by the planetarium trip, you’re actually our only volunteer so far.”

“I am?” Din asked.

“Yes, it’s very generous of you to offer to spend all night assisting us, but I understand that you’d like to keep a close eye on Grogu. Has he ever had a sleepover before?”

“A… No, he hasn’t.” Din’s pride held him back from admitting he had no idea the planetarium trip was overnight. “I haven’t been told exactly what this field trip is?”

Master Kenobi smiled. “Don’t worry, you won’t be asked to do anything too difficult. But Luke and I will be there to help you if you need it.”

“Why? What?”

“Honestly, the planetarium trips aren’t as bad as the parents seem to think it is, though I know you haven’t met any of the other parents yet,” Master Kenobi said. 

“What’s so bad about it?”

“Nothing, really. The late hours aren’t ideal, but when else are we meant to look at the stars? And then there’s the hike, which some don’t like, but you seem like the kind of man that would appreciate a walk up a mountain. A small mountain, mind you, and we don’t even sleep outside.”

“Really.”

“It’s going to be a lot of fun and I know Grogu will benefit from it. Plus, you’ll get bragging rights when do meet other parents.”

“Oh, yeah, sure.” 

“Well, here comes the kindergarteners. If we don’t cross paths for the rest of the week, I’ll see you on Saturday.” Master Kenobi patted the roof of Din’s car and calmly walked away. 

“Shit,” Din said. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to....... nobody! I did this all on my own.


	4. The Planetarium

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I waited so long to post this that it isn't Sunday anymore for many of you. Apologies! This chapter was a fun one to write, "one of the favorites" of my beta reader (which I don't have). I, personally, love the chapter that comes after this one, so stay tuned!

Just from the information sheet, Din knew he was over his head with the whole planetarium thing. What kind of kindergarten field trip required a headlamp? A sleeping bag? At least there would be free pizza and  _ complementary star maps _ , whatever that meant. The thought of a sleepover with a bunch of children and a couple of Jedi masters sounded awful, but it was too late to back out. He couldn’t risk looking like an asshole, not in front of his son’s new teachers.

Grogu, on the other hand, couldn’t wait. He did his best to help Din pack, sticking whatever he thought necessary in the overnight bag.

“ _ Ad’ika,  _ that’s a fork. They’ll have forks there, bud.” Din said, accepting Grogu’s offering and sticking it back in the silverware drawer. “We won’t need a glue stick either. Can you get me one of those travel packs of tissues? They’re over by our coats.  _ Vor’e _ .”

Din rolled up a change of clothes for Grogu and tucked it in with the sleeping bags, but he didn’t bother throwing anything else in for himself. As if he’d ever be seen in public in his pajamas. 

Just over an hour later, Din sat at the front of a school bus next to his overpacked night bag. The trip drew a big enough crowd that the students were asked to sit two-to-a-seat, but the chaperones were allowed to sit alone. The bus was an echo chamber of screaming and laughing and two portable speakers playing different songs, but Master Kenobi and Luke were unphased. Luke was driving the bus and chatting with Master Kenobi, who leaned forward in his seat. Din watched them out of the corner of his eye, knowing that his sunglasses hid this. He was not in his element. He was a stranger. 

Something hit Din on the back of the head. He caught the crumpled up piece of paper and turned around. A few rows behind him, Grogu waved with both hands. The girl he shared a seat with beckoned for Din to throw the paper ball back. He complied, and it arced through the air, landing perfectly in the girl’s hands. She, Grogu, and the kids around them cheered. 

At least the kid was having a good time. One week into the new school and he was already in a little friend group. 

The girl threw the paper ball at someone else, who in turn threw it to another person. Din sat sideways in his seat, leaning back against the window, watching the game of catch. After all the students had their turn with the paper ball, they started calling out to Master Kenobi. The ball drifted across the bus and hovered above the Master Jedi’s head. Without him so much as looking away from his conversation with Luke, it flew back towards a sea of hands trying to catch it. 

Soon enough, the bus reached the planetarium. To Din’s surprise, it was just the public planetarium, a place he had been once before. Master Kenobi stood up at the front of the bus to address the students. “Padawans, padawans,” he said. “We have a long and exciting night ahead of us, so try not to spend all your energy now. Pay close attention to the presentation! The information you see now will be relevant later in the evening. You’ll have a few minutes once we get inside to use the bathroom and explore the gift shop. As always, remember to display your good Jedi manners for the staff here at the planetarium. Oh, and have fun!”

“And leave your overnight bags on the bus!” Luke said from the driver’s seat. 

Master Kenobi gestured for Din to leave the bus with him. They stood aside as the students filed out in a tidy line, quiet and disciplined. “They know how to behave when the situation arises,” Master Kenobi said quietly. 

The students stood on the sidewalk, facing Master Kenobi and Din, hands clasped in front of them. A student tapped Grogu, who looked around before mimicking his classmates. The group kept up the same poise as they walked into the planetarium, led by Master Kenobi. Din and Luke brought up the rear. 

“Do people ever get weirded out by…” Din tilted his head towards the cultish uniformity of the students.

“Do you?” Luke asked.

“What?”

“What did  _ you _ think of the Jedi before your son enrolled? Did you think we were weird? Uptight? Scary?” 

“I didn’t really think anything.”

“Sure you did.”

“I thought it was something like a Montessori school, but with a religious slant.”

“Really?” 

Din nodded.

“That’s just… Wow, that’s really off.”

“Sorry,” Din said. 

The two of them stood on opposite sides of the planetarium’s double doors, watching the students poke around the gift shop, go in and out of the bathroom, and read the informational posters on the wall. Grogu stood, alone, staring at a rotating disco ball Earth on the ceiling. 

“Hey, kid,” Din called out. He turned around. “Do you want something from the gift shop?”

Grogu nodded and held out his hands. Din took a 5 from his wallet and set it in his hands. The kid methodically looked at everything in the gift shop’s display case before asking the clerk to get him out something. He showed the shiny mood ring to all his friends, who took turns trying it on. Once all the students were ready, they filed into the auditorium. The chaperones took the three seats closest to the door, Din, at the end of the row. 

The first half of the presentation was boring, some propaganda video chosen by the planetarium’s director about how alien myths are silly and childish. Din only half paid attention, uninterested in why astrology is such an affront to science or whatever. Luke was so still next to him that Din was pretty sure he was meditating. Did kids like this kind of stuff? Or did the planetarium people just have a vendetta against inaccurate depictions of space? 

After the video ended, a map of the stars faded into view. The canned narration was taken over by a real person in the back of the auditorium. He spoke about gas giants and dying stars and comets. Din slid his sunglasses onto his forehead. “Meteors in the asteroid belt may seem close, but in reality, they’re half a million miles apart. This is farther than the distance between us and the moon.” Din frowned. As the presentation moved on, he was stuck on the asteroid belt. They looked so condensed on the maps. Why were they so lonely in reality? It pissed him off. He wanted to leave.

The second bus ride was just as loud as the first. A solar system of apples, crumpled paper, and one solitary tampon floated around a headlamp sun. Din looked out the window at the desert scenery and tried to block out the noise. He was glad that the kids were having fun, but he could only take so much. If he hadn’t volunteered for the field trip, he would have been at home with the kid, working, maybe ordering takeout. As nice as space was, he didn’t want to spend too much time thinking about it. He was perfectly satisfied with the miniature galaxy of his own life. 

“Din,” Master Kenobi said.

“Yes?”

“I’ll be ordering the pizza as soon as we arrive at the lodge and Luke is going to lead a game with the students. Could you help him with that?”

“Sure,” Din said.

“Are you planning on changing your clothes before the hike?”

“Why?”

“Because it’s a hike in the desert.”

“I’m fine with what I’m wearing.”

“It’s not going to be a casual stroll.”

“I really am fine,” Din said. Maybe he’d have to push up his dry cleaning schedule by a few days, he’d done it before. He lived in Nevada and wore dark suits. He knew the drill.

The lodge wasn’t anything fancy, just a faux-rustic rec room with two long, metal tables and some stained couches. Evident by the pictures on the walls, it was mostly frequented by scout troops and older folks. In the backroom, students claimed bunk beds. Luke announced something about younger kids getting the bottom bunks. 

Din stood just inside the backroom, wondering where he fit into all of this. Grogu and his friends were sitting in a row of bottom bunks. The other kids were unpacking their overnight bags, and Din realized he was holding onto Grogu’s.

“Here’s your stuff, kid,” he said, tossing the bag onto his bed. “My sleeping bag’s in there, too.” 

“You can take the bed above him,” Luke said from his own top bunk. 

“Sound good, kid?” Din asked Grogu, who nodded. He pushed his own sleeping bag onto the plastic-covered mattress, reminiscent of his college days. Was there a special Jedi college? Could you major in Jedi? He had to get a notebook to write down all his questions. 

Luke’s game ended up being something that required the Force, some form of blindfolded dodgeball. Din’s job was to scoop up balls that rolled out of bounds and throw them back towards the kids. 30-some students running around with blindfolds trying to throw things at each other sounded like a recipe for disaster, it certainly wasn’t something that Din would want his child to do, but it all went surprisingly smoothly. The kids moved slowly, carefully plotted their moves, took off their shoes to step without making a sound. It was entertaining, even for someone who couldn’t participate, like a weird ballet. 

A couple of older kids perked up and reached towards their blindfolds. More and more kids did the same, setting their balls down, losing their guarded postures. The game came to a sudden, unspoken end. There was a knock on the door.

“Pizza!” someone said. 

Din was tasked with distributing the pepperoni. Each kid got two slices and a bag of chips, the exact kind of unhealthy meal to be expected from a field trip. While Din served himself, he checked to make sure Grogu was still doing fine. Sure enough, he was sitting on the floor with his pizza and the rest of the kindergarteners. 

Din knew he shouldn’t eat near his son and disturb his precious social time, but he also didn’t want to sit with Master Kenobi and Luke. For the first time, he actually  _ wished  _ there were other parents on the trip, normal people he could eat his dinner and make small talk with. Sitting by himself would be rude, so he reluctantly joined Master Kenobi and Luke at their table off to the side. They were both eating their pizza with silverware. 

After nightfall began to set the students were equipped with flashlights, granola bars, and star maps. As the hike began, Din realized for the first time how far away from civilization they were. 

“People come here specifically to stargaze,” Master Kenobi said as if he could read Din’s mind. The two of them were bringing up the rear of the group. “Because of how far away it is from any light pollution.”

Din nodded, which reminded him of the headlamp he was wearing. The “mountain”, as Master Kenobi had called it, was more of a hill, a gradual incline. The kids made good time, especially for how late it was, jumping on rocks and sparring with sticks. In the front, Luke was cajoled into doing a backflip, and he spent the rest of the hike talking to a group of students about how they, too, could do a backflip someday. A girl loudly declared that she would do a handstand if she was wearing pants. 

By the time they reached the flat summit of the hill, it was pitch black besides the glow of headlamps. The students paired up and were given red-tinted flashlights, which let them look at their star maps without ruining their view of the sky. Din claimed a seat on one of the weather-beaten benches and, much to his delight, Grogu climbed up next to him.

“Feeling tired?” Din asked. In response, the kid laid down, head resting in Din’s lap. “I get it now, you’re using me. Hey, I’m a lot comfier than the ground, right?” 

The kid nodded and rubbed his eyes under his glasses. Din reached up and turned off his headlamp. One by one, the rest of the flights turned off, illuminating a pristine and unpolluted sky. A chorus of “wow”s and gasps filled the still night. Din knew what the stars were supposed to look like; he grew up in a rural area. There was a time in his life when he took the purplish gash of the Milky Way for granted, but he’d never considered that the kid hadn’t seen it. 

The kid didn’t like it, though. He sat up and buried his face into Din’s jacket. “Too much?” Din asked. Grogu nodded. “It’s okay  _ ad’ika _ , just sit here.”

Din tucked his sunglasses in his front pocket, wrapped his arms around the kid, and tilted his head back. He found the constellations pointed out by Master Kenobi and listened to the mythology surrounding them. It was overwhelming, he understood why the kid didn’t want to look at the night sky.

Flashlights turned back on and the students brushed dirt off their robes. Din put his sunglasses back on to block out the sudden light. The kid was all but asleep, arms wrapped around Din’s neck and head on his shoulder. Din carried him down the trail, led by Luke’s lightsaber held up like a torch, splashing green light onto the heads of the students. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! All your comments, kudos, bookmarks, and hits are appreciated. Have a great week, see you next time.


	5. The Frog

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> phew! what a week to be a mandalorian fan. i know that gina isn't in the show anymore, and with good reason, but i already the vast majority of this story written and i really can't get rid of cara's character. here's my proposed alternative: picture her as someone else. recast her. my version of cara is NOT gina and you get to decide who it is. and please comment who you've fancast her as! i'd love to hear your thoughts.

Din set the kid down in the bedroom and gently coaxed him to take off his shoes before zipping him up in his sleeping bag. After that, Din took a seat in the main room to give the students privacy while they settled in for the night. In law school, he’d discovered a hidden talent for resting anywhere, in any position. He’d sit at a table in the back of the library or in the corner of the cafeteria, put some work in front of him, and take a 15-minute nap. With sunglasses on, nobody could see his closed eyes and paid him no attention. Sometimes, at 1-o-clock in the morning in a dimly lit room with nothing to do, the habit came back.

“Can’t sleep either?”

Din jolted awake and grabbed the arms of his chair. “Huh?”

Luke stood awkwardly in the low light of the sitting area, his eyes wide and alarmed. “Were you asleep?”

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry, it, uh, looked like you were awake.”

“That happens, sometimes.”

Luke nodded and reclined on the furthest possible couch from Din to flip through a magazine. He was still wearing his robes with a pair of cuffed jeans underneath, a sleeping ensemble that Din would have internally criticized if he hadn’t been wearing a suit himself. He took out his phone to play Tower Defense but found it almost dead. Had he packed a charger?

“Are you gonna go to bed?” Luke asked without looking away from his magazine. 

“I don’t want to wake the kids,” Din said, a partial truth. He didn’t want to rattle Grogu’s bunk bed while awkwardly climbing up.

“I can never sleep in new places,” Luke said. 

Din put his phone back in his pocket. “Fair.”

“At least there’ll be caf tomorrow,” Luke said. “Want a magazine?”

“What’re my choices?”

“Nothing good. The people before us left some gossip trash,” Luke pointed his magazine at a stack under the table. “I swore to never give my money to those assholes, but this is free so it doesn’t count.”

“Strong stance on tabloids,” Din said, taking out a magazine without looking at the cover. 

“I was in one, once,” Luke said. “Or twice. It doesn’t matter. They were really mean about it, no respect for boundaries.”

“Are you famous?”

Luke looked at Din. 

“What?”

“Aren’t you a lawyer? Don’t you keep up with this stuff?”

“What stuff?”

“Crimes?” Luke said. “My dad was the most popular guy in the true crime community for like a year.”

Din shrugged. “I don’t know about crimes”

“Not at all? Is the name Anakin Skywalker not ringing any bells?”

Din shook his head.

“Well, then find a true-crime podcast or YouTube video essay if you want to hear the story, those are way more engaging than anything in a newspaper. And the episode of that Netflix show got it all wrong.” 

“You don’t feel like that’s an invasion of your privacy?” 

“I know you're curious," Luke said. "I'd just like you to invade my privacy in the right way. And the podcasts are better."

"That's considerate." Din paused. "I can't tell, do you want me to listen to the podcasts or not?"

"Hm, I’m a teacher. You trust me with your child 5 days a week, it’s best if I’m an open book.”

“But  _ you  _ didn’t commit any crimes, right? Just your family members?”

“No,” Luke hesitated. “I’ve done some morally dubious things, though.”

“Haven’t we all.”

“But none of that made it into the podcasts anyways.”

“Hm.”

Luke set the magazine on his chest. “I didn’t mean to throw out all the skeletons in my closet. I assumed you knew and didn’t know how to bring it up. That’s usually the situation with parents, they’ve got a bunch of questions but don’t know how to ask.”

“Are you tired of answering them?”

“Exhausted.” Luke slid further down onto the couch until he was fully on his back. “What’s with the sunnies?”

“The what?”

“It’s my turn to be invasive. What’s with the sunglasses? It’s the middle of the night.”

Din tilted his head. “I’m not a fan of eye contact. What’s with the one glove?”

Luke pulled up the edge of the glove to reveal his prosthetic hand.

“Oh.”

“What, you thought I wore one glove around because I think it looks cool?”

“Maybe.”

“I’m not trying to keep you up. Go back to sleep,” Luke looked down and flipped his magazine back open.

Din crossed his arms and leaned back. He drifted into a half-sleep, vaguely aware of the sound of pages turning. Eventually, that faded away, too. When he woke up, Luke was sitting on the counter of the kitchenette making caf.

“Want some?” he asked. 

“Sure.”

“I really don’t want the kids knowing I was up all night. I’m not an insomniac, really.”

Din sat forward in the chair and stretched his back. He wasn’t as young as he had been the last time he slept in a chair. “Did you sleep at all?”

“It’s only been, like, six hours since we got back from the hike, so it’s not as bad as it sounds,” Luke said. “I’ll ask Ben to drive the bus home if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Just wondering.”

Kids trickled out of the bedroom with creased robes and tired eyes. Master Kenobi took a seat near the kitchenette to drink his own cup of caf, Grogu tried to fall back asleep on Din’s lap. Din found himself agreeing with Master Kenobi; the planetarium trip wasn’t as bad as its reputation.

The social calendar was hung up on the whiteboard in Din’s study, not for his sake but for the kid’s. Every field trip and fundraiser Din participated in meant a better school for Grogu. He’d been so distracted by the planetarium extravaganza that he’d forgotten that he had other social obligations. When Cara reminded him he was meeting her and her girlfriend for lunch, he had to pretend he’d remembered all along.

Like every self-respecting professional working in downtown Tatooine City, they planned to meet at the Cantina. Din shouldered through the crowd by the door, scanning the tables for Cara and her girlfriend. They sat near the back on the same side of a booth with glasses of tihaar and spotchka on the table. 

“Is one of these for me?” Din asked.

“Din! Yes, it’s a peace offering for forcing you into a social situation,” Cara said, pushing the clear alcohol towards him.

“I socialize just fine. Nice to meet you,” he said to the girlfriend.

“Hi,” the girlfriend extended her hand over the table. “I’m Fennec.”

Din shook her hand, sat down, and gulped half the glass on the table in front of him

“Thirsty?” Cara laughed.

“I have to go back to work in an hour,” Din said. “I’d like to be sober by then.”

“What do you do?” Fennec asked. 

“I’m a civil litigation lawyer.”

“Oh, so you meet a lot of criminals?” 

“Why do people always assume that?” Din said. “No, it’s a lot more boring than that most of the time.”

“Except for the one time you adopted a child,” Cara said.

“I did do that once.”

“A child?” Fennec asked. “A whole child?”

“Yeah, he met a baby while working and adopted it.”

“That’s crazy,” Fennec propped her hand under her chin and, while she was talking about Din, she looked at Cara. “Does that happen often?”

“Only once, in my experience, though I can’t speak for other lawyers,” Din said. “But that’s the only interesting thing that’s happened to me on the job in the past decade.”

“I could never do that,” Fennec said. “I like variety.”

“Believe me, she does,” Cara added.

If Din was going to be third-wheeling for the next hour, he’d need food with his alcohol. He took another sip of his drink and picked up a menu from the center of the table and flipped it open. He was about to flag down a waiter when his phone started buzzing in his pocket. “It’s the kid’s school, I should take this,” he said. Had something happened at school? He put the phone to his ear and covered the other to block out the live music. “Hello?”

“Hello, Mr. Djarin, I’m calling because Grogu, uh, ate a frog.”

“He ate a what?”

“A frog. He found and ate it during recess.”

“And?”

“He seems fine, surprisingly, but you should probably come take him home for the day and keep an eye on him.” 

“Okay, yeah, I’ll be there, thank you,” he hung up and turned to Cara and Fennec. “The kid ate a frog.”

They stared at him for a moment before breaking into laughter. “A frog?” Cara asked. 

“Yeah, he ate a frog.”

“Sorry for laughing, it’s just-- is he ok?”

“Seems so, but they still want me to take him home.” 

“Makes sense,” Fennec said. 

Din looked at the mostly empty glass in front of him. “Can you drive me?”

Cara, Fennec, and Din pulled up to the Jedi Academy 20 minutes later. “I’ve always wondered what this place looked like,” Cara said as they slowed to a stop. 

Din took another sip of his water bottle and set it in the back seat’s cup holder. “Just park here. I’ll only be a minute.” He stepped out of the car and tried not to worry about the effects of a frog in a 5-year-old’s stomach. Grogu, mud-streaked but smiling, was waiting for Din just inside the door, accompanied by Luke.

“Din,” he said, standing up. “I wanted to apologize for letting this happen. We like to encourage an interest in nature, but this--”

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Din crouched down to Grogu’s level. “Hey, how’re you feeling?”

Grogu responded with an ear-to-ear grin.

“Do you remember what we talked about? About not eating bugs? That applies to frogs, too, okay?”

Grogu nodded.

Din looked back to Luke. “I’ll start packing him a bigger lunch.” He scooped the kid up, not caring about the dirt on his robes. “He has such a big appetite, I can’t keep up sometimes.”

“Some of the students bring snacks, if you think that’ll help,” Luke said. “And again, I’m sorry. I’ll keep a closer eye on him in the future.” Luke fell in stride with Din as they walked out of the school. 

“At least he doesn’t seem affected by it.”

“No, I looked it up and I can’t figure out the risks of eating frogs. I saw someone do it on TV once, just eat a frog raw and whole, but there are a lot of different species out there.” 

“I’ll watch him tonight, give him some soup,” Din said. 

“Soup, does he like that?”

“It’s his favorite food. Next to frogs, apparently.”

“It’ll be a great story to tell when he’s older, that’s for sure.” As they exited the building, Luke said, “Oh, who’d you come with?”

“I’m Cara,” Cara shouted out before Din had the chance to reply. She stuck her hand out the window, lunging over Fennec, and reached for Luke. “This is my girlfriend, Fennec. We were grabbing lunch with Din when you called.”

“Well, sorry to interrupt your lunch! I’m Luke, Grogu’s art teacher.” Luke returned Cara’s handshake.

“So I’ve heard,” she lied. “It sounds like you have a lot of fun out here.”

“I like to think we do,” Luke said. “Well, hey speaking of which, the school play is coming up, it’s a lot of fun, you should come.”

Behind Luke, Din shook his head.

“Oh? When is it?”

“A week from Friday,” Luke said. “I hope to see you there.” 

“Well, since Din’s a single father-- ” 

Din shook his head again.

“Do I get a plus one?” Cara asked, holding up her and Fennec’s intertwined hands.

“Yeah sure, of course,” Luke said. “Tickets are 10 credits, it all goes to the school.”

Cara raised an eyebrow. “And Din, you’re going, right?”

Din raised a shoulder and hesitated before answering. “Yes.”

Luke turned around to Din, smiling. “I won’t keep you any longer. I’ll see you three on Friday and, Grogu, I hope to see you in class tomorrow morning.” 

Grogu reached out and patted Luke’s shoulder in response. Without a car seat, Din had to hold Grogu tightly in his lap. The kid settled happily in Din’s arms, giving no indication that the frog was making him sick. 

“What was  _ that? _ ” Cara said before they’d even pulled onto the road.

“What was what?”

Fennec laughed. “You and that uh, art teacher. Luke was it?”

“Hm. What about him?” Din slumped lower in his seat, cradling Grogu’s head to his chest ready to block his ears. “He’s the seagulls guy”

“And, kinda seems like he might like you,” Cara said with a hum. “And I’ve never seen you that agreeable, so.”

Din closed his eyes. “I think I’m gonna take a nap.” He muttered.

“I know you’re not stupid, Din,” Cara said. “You’re not friendly to just anyone. Hell, it took me three months to learn your first name! But now you’re all ready to say yes to whatever Mr. Luke suggests, huh? How do you explain that?”

“I’m asleep right now.”

“Is he your type?” Cara asked. 

Din tilted his head back making Grogu giggle with a loud, exaggerated snore. 

“Stop that, you know what I mean. Would you tap that? If the situation was different? I mean he’s a bit fruity for you, sure, but--”

Din immediately sat up and clasped his hands over Grogu’s ears. “My kid is in the car.” 

Cara waved a hand in the air. “He’s five, he doesn’t understand innuendo.” 

Grogu glanced up at his father before tapping the air repeatedly.

“So you don’t see one problem with talking about me sleeping with my son’s teacher in front of my son?”

“I think it’s funny--” Fennec said. 

Din cut her off with a grimace “It doesn’t matter if it’s funny. Are we done?.”

“Fine,” Cara said, pursing her lips. “But I want you to know that I’ll be your wingwoman if you change your mind.”

Din responded by taking his hands off Grogu’s ears. The kid looked up at his dad, curious eyes magnified in his glasses. Din knew Grogu hated being excluded from conversations. “Sorry, kid, we were talking about adult things, taxes, and stuff. Didn’t wanna bore you to death. How’s your stomach? Want some soup when we get home?”

Judging by the kid’s reaction, soup was a go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you enjoyed this chapter! happy valentines day, or, happy whatever-day-you-happen-to-be-reading-this-on day

**Author's Note:**

> I would like to thank someone for helping me write this fic, and that person is..... Pedro Pascal for his performance as Din Djarin. I would also like to thank... my parents for not making me pay rent while I live at home during a pandemic. Someone who has done so much for me over the course of writing this fic is... the community college I'm going to because my unusually long winter break is the reason I had time to write this. Of course, this isn't really an acknowledgment section unless I thank... the good people keeping AO3 up running. Oh! And how could I forget the one person who helped me more than anything else... the little animated person in my HIIT app. And, of course, I have to thank... my cat. Nobody else thanks bye :)


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